


You Can Only Say That What You Want Is Where You Are

by CitrusVanille



Series: Photographs Your Boyfriend Took [1]
Category: McFly
Genre: Engagement, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-04
Updated: 2009-07-04
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: The first time Tom wears his ring in public – not just ‘running out to the store’ public, but ‘red carpet, flashbulbs, and video cameras’ public – is almost a week after Dougie gives it to him.





	You Can Only Say That What You Want Is Where You Are

The first time Tom wears his ring in public – not just ‘running out to the store’ public, but ‘red carpet, flashbulbs, and video cameras’ public – is almost a week after Dougie gives it to him. It’s a film premiere – the newest Bond – and all four of them decided to go, even though they’re not performing. The ring is heavy on his finger, the platinum feels like it’s burning into his skin, and he can’t decide if he thinks that everyone’s staring at them and he wants them to stop, or that no one’s looking and he wishes they would.

Dougie laces their fingers together the first time they stop for a flash interview, squeezes just a bit, and Tom feels most of the tension drain out of him. He squeezes back gratefully, and doesn’t let go.

+

The interviews are all more or less the same, brief inquiries about their recently dropped album and their upcoming tour thrown in between questions about meeting the cast and on their expectations for the film. They’re all book-ended by “Enjoying yourselves tonight, boys?” and “Enjoy the rest of your night, boys!” and Tom wonders vaguely if they’ll still be labeled ‘boys’ next year, when he’s thirty.

He feels the press of his ring when he tightens his grip on Dougie’s hand, thinks, _Thirty and married – married married married._ He grins, can’t help it, and ducks his head so his hair swings in front of his face, hopes the interviewer doesn’t notice and draw the camera’s attention to him, because he’s pretty sure he looks like a complete idiot. He shoots a sidelong glance at Dougie, sees him beaming back, and decides he doesn’t care if he looks like at idiot.

+

No one actually asks Tom about the ring, even when he and Dougie get pulled in front of the cameras for a ‘celebrity couples’ shot after Danny and Gi make their escape. It’s not that he wants to be asked about it – has always hated having people he doesn’t know pry into his private life – but he knows better than to think it won’t happen, and the waiting is setting his teeth on edge.

Dougie pulls him into a semi-quiet corridor off the main hall once they get inside.

“Relax,” he says, voice soft in Tom’s ear. “It’s not a big deal, all right? If they notice, they notice, and we answer their questions now. If they don’t, we make the announcement next week when we open the tour, like we’d planned, and deal with it then. You don’t need to worry so much. It’s not going to be a repeat of three years ago.”

Tom knows that, he does, but. It’s still hard to shake the memories of the media circus they’d gone through then. The shit they still put up with – and probably always will.

“You didn’t have to wear the ring,” Harry points out, and Tom looks over Dougie’s shoulder to see that both Harry and Danny have followed them. “That was your choice.”

“I know,” Tom says, and it was. Announcing it at all had been Tom’s idea, Dougie had been perfectly fine with letting it come out when and how it would, said he didn’t need it to be a big deal to people they didn’t know, as long as he got to spend the rest of his life with Tom. And Tom. Tom doesn’t want any more cameras in their faces than they already have to deal with any more than he wants strangers knowing their business, but there’s a part of him that wants to scream it from the rooftops that he’s getting married, that Dougie loves him, wants him – _him_ – that much. That same part of him that didn’t believe Dougie would ask him, that wants everyone to know Dougie is _his_ , and it’s permanent. “I know,” he says again, looks back at Dougie, curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of Dougie’s neck, presses their foreheads together. “Thank you.”

Dougie grins, warm and close, and curves his palms over Tom’s hips, under his jacket. “Love you,” he says.

“If the crisis is averted?” Harry drawls.

Dougie presses a quick kiss to the corner of Tom’s mouth before pulling away. “Fuck you,” he says, flipping Harry off for extra emphasis.

Danny laughs, says, “If everything’s good, I’m going to go find Gi before the film starts.”

Tom rolls his eyes and waves him off, wraps one arm loosely over Dougie’s shoulders, and tugs him back towards the hall, “Let’s go find our seats,” he says, and punches Harry in the shoulder as they go.

+

Tom gets a little lost trying to find the toilets after the film, and runs into Chris Pine on his way back. He’s pretty sure they haven’t seen each other since their own awful excuse for a movie, but there’s no way Tom wouldn’t recognize James T. Kirk, and Chris remembers Tom, which is flattering and embarrassing all at once. They end up swapping stories in a random, half-abandoned corridor for over half an hour. Chris is in London filming – “Better than _Just My Luck_ ,” he says, laughs, “but it’s no _Star Trek_ ” – and he notices the ring on Tom’s finger when Tom uses his hand to shove his hair out of his eyes halfway into a story about getting caught flying in a storm.

“Congratulations!” Chris grins, thumps Tom’s arm. “I’ve seen the two of you splashed across newspapers and magazines every time I’ve come over here in the last couple years. I kept meaning to get in touch again, see how things were, but figured that might be weird.”

For a second, Tom wants to flail and say ‘James T. Kirk wanted to get in touch with me?’ but no, this is just Chris, who Tom knew before _Star Trek_ , and they’d had fun hanging around with during filming. “Thanks,” he says, instead – means it, likes the way it feels to have someone he’s not close to know and think it’s great without it being some celebrity news story – and, “Yeah, the paparazzi can be pretty insistent, sometimes.”

Chris gives an exaggerated shudder, because of course he knows. “Tell me about it,” he says and makes a face.

“You should have, though,” Tom says, then clarifies, “Gotten in touch. I’m sure the others would love to see you as well.”

“I’m here for another two weeks filming,” Chris says. “Maybe we could all do dinner some night?”

Tom grins, gives Chris his number, and they spend another several minutes talking about that awful place they ate at that one time in the States, before Tom realizes how long he’s been gone.

“I should get back,” he says, can’t help but rub his thumb over the underside of his ring.

Chris notices. “Of course,” he winks. “I still have to go to the bathroom.”

Tom laughs, and points down the hallway, “Third left,” he says, “Don’t believe the signs that say it’s the second.”

+

It takes Tom a few minutes to spot Dougie when he gets back to the main hall. He’s standing near one of the refreshments tables, talking to a guy with dark hair. Tom thinks he should know the man, but he can’t seem to place him. What he does recognize is the way the guy keeps leaning in to speak, even though he’s already standing too close to be casual, and the way he keeps lightly touching Dougie’s arm, shoulder, wrist. Tom can feel himself scowl, and is halfway to them before he’s made the conscious decision to move. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Dougie, he does, completely. He just doesn’t trust the other guy.

“Dougs, I was looking for you,” Tom says, coming up behind Dougie and wrapping his right arm around his waist, left hand above his elbow where the ring catches the light, little rainbows dancing off the diamonds. Tom perches his chin on Dougie’s shoulder. He presses a kiss to Dougie’s neck, feels Dougie melt a little against him, and takes a moment to hide his grin against Dougie’s skin before looking directly at the other man when he says, “Sorry to interrupt,” then, “Have we met?”

The man doesn’t actually step back, but he shifts away slightly, eyes flicking between Tom, Dougie, and Tom’s left hand. “No,” he says. “I don’t think so.” He glances at Tom’s hand again, then says, “If you’ll excuse me?” and slides off into the crowd.

Dougie tilts his head a bit, trying to see Tom’s face. “What was that about?” he asks.

“I didn’t like him,” Tom mumbles against Dougie’s shoulder. He doesn’t have to see it to know Dougie’s rolling his eyes.

“Right,” Dougie sounds amused. “Something tells me that even if the paps don’t pick up anything before next week, everyone here is going to know by the end of tonight.”

Tom huffs, and, right in that moment, he really doesn’t mind who knows, or when. “Want to go home early?” he asks, tightens his arm a little around Dougie’s waist. “We can hide in our room and avoid cameras until we leave for the tour.”

Dougie laughs, turns in Tom’s hold and leans their foreheads together, catching Tom’s hands and twining their fingers together, pressing the platinum warm against Tom’s skin. “Yeah, all right,” he grins, close and happy. “Let’s get out of here.”


End file.
